White Christmas

Growing up in Phoenix I’d sometimes get defensive around Michigan relatives who wondered how we could stand Christmas without snow. I’d trace my finger on a map or glob from Phoenix to Bethlehem just to point out that it’s not about the snow.

Needless to say, since my very first December in Nebraska, I’ve been converted. Mind you, I hate shoveling it as much as the next guy. This year I haven’t caught pneumonia or thrown out my back yet, but I have sprained my wrist. And one of the few things I miss about living in LA is sitting by the pool under the palms and bouganvillas this time of year, but now I too am one of those people who just don’t think it’s Christmas, unless the Christmas is white.

Bing Crosby first sang "White Christmas" on his NBC radio show on Christmas Day in 1941, just over two weeks after Pearl Harbor. Little did he know that the song Irving Berlin wrote for a 1942 movie "Holiday Inn" would win an Academy Award for best song. Nor did he have any idea that it become the biggest-selling single of all time.

Did he have any idea that it would become a song about yearning for peace and for "the ones we used to know?" "White Christmas" often brought tears to the eyes of many weary soldiers.
You can plan on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree

Christmas Eve will find me
Where the lovelight gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams
Most years, hearing Crosby croon simply made me think about snow, or about the 1954 movie Crosby made with Danny Kay and Rosemary Clooney.

But this year I can’t help thinking about much more. For one thing, too many of the veterans who helped save the world from the NAZIs and fascism are no longer with us. Or, sick or suffering. For another, too many people my age are separated from their families this Christmas, soldiers in another war.

This time our government tried to lead us to believe that Iraq was to blame for terrorist acts committed by Al Queda, (which was centered in Afghanistan, not Iraq) and this time our government struck first without provocation.

I have a former student, Jamie, getting married this spring. Her brother Matt (another former student) is in Iraq, his unit has been fired upon and lost members in Black Hawk helicopters. Jamie worries so much she often cries herself to sleep.

I have a cheerleader who’ dad I’ve never met. He didn’t come to parent-teacher conferences. That’s because he’s over there too. Actually, he’s not allowed to tell his family where he is exactly. This 7th grade girl hasn’t seen her dad in almost two years. I can’t imagine not seeing my kids for that long.

I know that today’s service men and women are definitely not enjoying the sun, sand and palm trees in Kabal, Baghdad and Tekrit.

If Bob Hope were to take Bing Crosby and his USO show over there for Thanksgiving, I know they’d have gotten a lot of tears if they’d sing Crosby’s 1943 hit, “I'll be home for Christmas.”

Please keep our service men and women and their families in your prayers this season. May your days be merry and bright. And may all your Christmases be white.